


Winter's Drift

by millionstar



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, or something idk, post-orgasmic glow, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-23 01:05:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millionstar/pseuds/millionstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tent is fragile, barely hanging together in the harsh wind of an Albion winter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter's Drift

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my [Livejournal](http://millionstar.livejournal.com/233424.html) on 12/24/12.

The tent is fragile, barely hanging together in the harsh wind of an Albion winter. Occasionally, random flakes of snow manage to worm their way into the private oasis that the two occupants had created for themselves, apart from the rest of the camp. 

The two occupants aren't very mindful of this fact, and even if they were they wouldn't be too bothered by it. 

"I can't imagine spending another winter's night without you in my arms," a sated and satisfied Arthur murmurs against Merlin's neck. He shakes his head, as though to affirm the fact to himself. "I can't. Not after that," he breathes, reaching between their bodies, where they remain joined as they attempt to recover from their session of indulgence. "My gods." 

Still panting, Merlin raises his head, which up to that moment had been resting against one royal nipple. "You've never had a winter with me in your arms till this one." 

"Indeed. I like it, a lot," Arthur grins.

"Whatever will you do with me come spring?" Merlin asks, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Slowly, he pulls out, Arthur wincing at the loss of contact until Merlin settles atop him once more. 

"Anything you wish." 

"Anything?" 

Arthur nods, pulling Merlin up for a soft kiss or seven. "Anything. Tell me what you'd like."

"Ealdor," Merlin replies. "There's a meadow in Ealdor that overflows with lavender. It's so lush that you can lie down in it and disappear completely. I want to show it to you." One of Arthur's hands travels across Merlin's bare shoulder as he speaks, back and forth over the smooth, warm skin therein. Merlin sighs, arching his shoulder into the touch. 

"Done," Arthur replies. 

"But what of you?" Merlin asks, smoothing the sweat-soaked hair back from Arthur's brow. "What would you like?" 

"Come spring?"

"No. Now. 

_(forever)_

Right now," Merlin whispers, and he wonders if Arthur understands that he would do anything to fulfill the desire that is about to be given voice, no matter what it may be.

Arthur pulls the blanket further over their naked bodies and wraps his legs around Merlin's waist in a clear and total act of possession; it is something Merlin welcomes and revels in. Arthur murmurs the last words either of them will hear on this night, their lips meeting softly as he does.

"Hold me. I just want you to hold me, Merlin."

Merlin does. 

Merlin holds Arthur on that cold, harsh winter's night, and for countless more to come. He holds him through all the battles and trials that fate chooses to throw their way. He holds him on good days and he holds him even harder on the bad ones. 

When he holds Arthur in a veritable sea of lavender, he feels as though he's been given the most precious of gifts. 

And, luckily, for Arthur Pendragon, Merlin _never_ lets him go.


End file.
